


Pax per Tyrannidem

by WhirlyGirl



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Mention of previous violence in relationship, My Scavs humanformer AU again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhirlyGirl/pseuds/WhirlyGirl
Summary: ‘It’s over, isn’t it’.He looked at Starscream then, as old, yet ageless as he was, with his fierce blue eyes and unyielding conviction in their cause, if not their master.‘It’s done’.Megatron dies.  Two old 'Cons come together.
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Megatron, Drift | Deadlock/Starscream, Megatron/Starscream (Transformers)
Kudos: 23





	Pax per Tyrannidem

*

‘I’m not interested in your hippy bullshit, so if you’ve come here to spout at me, you can walk right back out’.

Starscream sat at the back door, bare feet curled around the legs of a tall kitchen stall he’d chosen to perch on. Drift had expected histrionics, for him to be drunk, or dressed in the last thing Megatron had worn. But he sat, composed, in his usual skin tight jeans and crisp white shirt, head wreathed in the blue smoke of a cigarillo. He arched a manicured brow as Drift unstrapped his great sword and lent it against the kitchen counter, arm crossed defensively across this thin frame. 

‘Hello Starscream’.

Something flickered across the other man’s gaunt face, too fast for Drift to read, before he scoffed.

‘Oh Primus no, no I am not doing this’.

Drift dragged the other stall over to the door and sat carefully next to Starscream.

‘Maybe I need to’.

Starscream sneered at him around the cigarillo, blowing smoke in his face.

‘Go cry on your ridiculous captain then’.

‘Co-captain’.

‘Megatron was never co anything in his entire life. It was all him, always’.

Drift dug a hand into his pocket to pull out tobacco papers. He took his time rolling, content to be silent. They’d had only a few moments like this in their long lives together, he and Star. It was rare for Starscream to be still, or quiet, or anything but his vengeful, biting self. But way back when, there had been moments of calm, usually as they waited in the darkness for the order to move in. There was no friendship here. But the simple shared experience of those hours in the darkness with the man they’d have followed into the Pit was enough. There were so very few of them now, who’d known Megatron before. Who would still say his name with a modicum of respect, even after he had so badly betrayed them all.

‘Have you heard from Soundwave?’

It was there then. A brief flash of bright pain that made Drift ache. It was the wrong thing to ask. Starscream snarled and slipped from his stall to stalk across the kitchen to the fridge.

‘What a fucking ridiculous thing to say’. He opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle of white wine before slamming the door. 

‘Does he know?’

He watched as Starscream retrieved a large wine glass from the cupboard and slugged half the bottle into it.

‘Who fucking cares’.

He drank half the wine before slamming the glass down on the black granite surface with enough force that Drift was surprised it didn’t break.

‘Why are you here Drift? You can’t possibly think that wearing the same brand gives you license to come here and talk to me about a man who cared nothing about your sorry arse beyond what you could do for him.’ He took another swig of wine.

‘He saved me’.

Starscream scoffed. ‘He used you. He saw the bitter murderous skiv you were and saw your potential for being a bitter murderous skiv for us’.

Drift looked away. Starscream lowered his wine glass.

‘Oh god you fool. You loved him didn’t you’.

Drift had loved many people in his long, brutal life. They had all died. He had given himself over to the tenants of Spectralism in the hope that it would offer up some sort of penance, a relief from the crushing guilt of all the blood on his hands. But Drift had come to realise that everything since Crystal City was nothing but performative, a façade of grief and a false desire for redemption. Except Ratchet. Ratchet had been real. But Ratchet had still died. 

Had he loved Megatron? Did he still? 

Drift turned the question back on Starscream, rather than answer it himself.

‘You loved him.’

‘Yes. I did’. Starscream drew a slender taloned finger around the rim of his glass. ‘I worshiped him. He was utterly magnificent. And then he wasn’t’.

He lifted his chin, made sure Drift was looking fully at him. ‘I have more broken bones in my body from that man than the nine lives they say I have. So take him off of that pedal stool you have him on. He was beautiful and charismatic and awful. And a few years of saying sorry and playing nice won't unbreak those bones, or bring back those he murdered’.

Drift thought then, of when Ratchet had found him dying in the gutter, and had bought him back to life, had told him he was special. How appropriate Starscream’s word were, for them all. Beautiful and charismatic and awful. Bitter, murderous skivs. Ratchet had placed such trust in him. Such hope.

But Ratchet and Wing and Gasket, dear Gasket were dead. And now, finally, Megatron.

‘It’s over, isn’t it’. 

He looked at Starscream then, as old, yet ageless as he was, with his fierce blue eyes and unyielding conviction in their cause, if not their master.

‘It’s done’. 

He felt the ache, the soul deep heaviness that he’d carried for so long, finally lift.

He raised a hand to his face and found it wet. He wiped away the tears, expecting scorn, but Star just watched him. He drew on the remnants of the cigarillo before grinding it out on the kitchen surface. He didn’t quite meet Drift’s eye as he replied.

‘Yes. I suppose it is’. 

‘What now?’

‘Now?’ Drift watched as Starscream sighed and met his gaze again. 

‘Now we get on with our lives’

*


End file.
